A Moment Unplanned
by psychomidget
Summary: Angelique and Connor didn't imagine the severe swerve their relationship would take when Angelique goes to wash up after a hard day training.


Angelique doubled over, panting and sweating like never before. Across their small battlefield, Connor was slightly hunched over, sweat pouring down his tanned neck as he watched her, trying to even his own breathing. He hadn't gone so easy on her this time, but, to her delight, she'd held her own against him. He'd pulled several new stunts on her, and somehow, she'd managed to deflect at least half of them. She didn't need his vocal approval to know that she was improving.

A breathless Connor smiled at her from where he now leaned against a tree.

"You did well today. You're faster and more vicious than the first time we sparred," he said with an amused smile on his dark lips.

Angelique's already reddened face flushed darker, "Don't make fun! I couldn't help it I was raised as a lady!"

The dark man's lips only widened further to show his brilliant teeth, "Certainly didn't show it the first few times we bumped into each other, if running the rooftops of Boston was any indication. And ripping your dresses. And blundering through the wilderness with wolves on your tail."

Angelique scowled at him, "All of which was your fault! If you were easier to find, I wouldn't have had to resort to extreme measures!"

Connor laughed as he shrugged off some of his heavier clothes, revealing his sweat-drenched shirt, spattered with blood from where she'd split his lip and the inside of his cheek. Angelique felt bad about it, but not as bad as she would have if he hadn't been toying with her for most of the fight.

"Go on," He said, tossing her some fresh clothes from beside where the horses were tethered, "Go get cleaned up. There's a river downhill from here."

The young French woman nodded with a tired sigh, accepting the clothes and making her way down to the stream.

When she arrived, she pulled off her bloodied, sweat-stained coat and examined the clothes he'd given her. Again, they were his clothes, and much too big. Rubbing her face, she stripped out of her soaked, stinking clothing and dropped it in a pile next to the clean ones. For a moment, she glanced down at herself. All of the baby fat from her younger years had been stripped away, replaced by toughened muscle and taut skin. She hadn't lost her pretty figure. In fact, the lines of her waist came in sharper with the missing fat, and her hips and shoulders were stronger and more pronounced. Her legs were thicker and capable of withstanding the beating she constantly put them through. She had a woman's body, one to be proud of. Even despite the bruises that laced across her abdomen and arms from Connor's blows, and the odd scar from weapons training. Not that she minded. She would bear them with pride, if she weren't afraid of her parents finding out that she had been training to become a dangerous killer.

Ignoring her nagging sense of growing narcissism, Angelique slipped into the river, letting its cool waters flow over her hot skin. She waded out into deeper waters until she was submerged at the hips. Cupping her hands in the glacial waters, she poured it over her shoulders and down her face. She paused a moment to dip her head under the waters, soaking her hair, neck, and face. She emerged again, water pouring down her form as she wiped the water from her eyes. The tension left her aching muscles underneath the cool waters of the river, leaving her relaxed and tranquil.

It wasn't long before she became aware of silent footsteps approaching. But Angelique wasn't worried as she continued to wash the sweat from her arms and chest. She turned to him, not bothering to cover herself. Connor stood on the banks, his shirt and gear in one hand. His dark skin glistened in the dimming sunlight, the light playing over his taut muscles that rippled over his chest, stomach, and arms, echoing the power that swirled about him like a thick winter cloak. The sight made Angelique's heart thump hard in her chest. The man was her hero and her idol, her best friend, her metaphoric knight in shining armor. Or rather, in his case, her Brave in wolf furs, far better than any knight.

Her eyes drifted up his throat, over his sharp features, to his dark eyes. The smoking glint of lust in those dark orbs made her heart beat faster. It was such a stark contrast to his calm expression that it was exciting. He stood there on the banks of the river as a powerful predator, studying his prey, knowing precisely what he wanted.

Angelique turned to him, returning his stare. She did not cry out, as she probably should have, or shoo him away with harsh words, or a thrown rock. Connor did not need any encouraging. He moved closer to the water's edge, dropping his gear next to hers. Then he removed his wristblades, his moccasins, and finally his buckskin trousers. Shyly, Angelique dropped her gaze, her face heating at the sight of him unclothed. She felt the water shift as he slid into the river's depth. His warm fingers under her chin redirected her gaze back up to his handsome face. Angelique was beginning to feel self-conscious, now that she was bared under his dark gaze.

Warm lips were suddenly pressed to hers, surprising the Assassin initiate. A strong arm encircled her waist, prompting her to put her own around the older Assassin's neck. She returned his gentle kiss as his fingers ran against her jaw and down her throat to rest on her narrow shoulder.

After a long moment, they tore apart, gasping for air but were still locked in each other's arms.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton…" she whispered softly, raising her eyes to face again.

Connor appeared startled, and, at the same time, pleased that she knew and could say his birth name. Before he could answer her, her fingers wrapped in the braid that hung against the side of his face, using it pull him back down again. Her lips ghosted over his, her breath hot against his skin.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton…" she murmured again, enchanted with the way the name rolled off her tongue, at the exotic flavor the word left in her mouth.

The Mohawk warrior pulled her tiny body closer, his lips pressing against hers again, this kiss deeper and more passionate than the first, which had been tentative and cautious. Angelique's breath left her as she felt herself being pressed against his hard, smooth body. Her fingers tightened in his hair as the air around them seem to become hotter and hotter, despite the cool water that lapped against their hips. Their kiss became more and more aggressive as they began to battle for dominance, warrior against warrior. Like a pair of wolves fighting for the position of alpha.

A light drizzling of rain began to cascade down from the clouds, drenching their bare forms, but neither seemed to care as they started their second skirmish of the evening. But it wasn't long before Angelique started to lose; distracted by Connor's strong hands against her back and the way he pressed her closer to him. When Connor swept her up in his arms, she lost completely, unable to fight against him as he carried her out of the stream, his lips never leaving hers. He laid her on a patch of moss as the rain began to pour through the treetops, their lips parting for a breath. Connor lay against her, his lips immediately attacking her neck. Angelique let out a gasp, her hands moving immediately to his shoulders, unsure of how to handle this new pleasure. Connor let out a lusty growl as her nails dug into the tough skin of his back, slick with the rain, hissing lowly against her skin. The air was hot around them as Connor's lips continued their assault on Angelique's neck, jaw, and chest, reducing her to a panting, trembling mess.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton," She whimpered pleadingly, unable to take even this simple teasing.

The dark man obeyed her unspoken plea, his lips returning to hers as a hand slid down the curve of her waist and hip, before hitching her leg over his waist. Angelique groaned against his kiss, her hands moving to tangle in his wild hair as he moved closer to her. They broke apart again, but only for a moment.

Angelique was too focused on the man before her to really notice the pain of their joining. But as he started to move, she couldn't help but cry out at the wave of pleasure it brought. Her nails dug deeper into his skin the more he moved, his lips ghosting over hers. The fingers of his free hand snagged in her hair, twisting the feather that honored her first kill.

They continued to move together, not at all minding the rain or the moss below them, focusing only on each other and the pleasure that followed. Together, they reached the point of utter bliss and lay in the moss, coming down from their height of their journey. Angelique cuddled up next to the warrior, exhausted but happy. She watched his powerful chest work as his breathing slowed, a sense of peacefulness settling over her and her limbs relaxing. A smile tugged at the French woman's pink lips as she looked up at his slickened face. He turned to her and returned the blissful expression.

"We should get back, or Achilles himself will come looking," He said at long last.

Dreamily, she nodded in agreement.

They got to their feet and pulled on their drenched clothing. They started down the path to the house, their fingers entwined. Angelique was tired and drained of energy, but there was no way she was going to let it show and ruin her happy moment. But Connor, as observant as he was, seemed to sense this. He scooped her up in his arms, startling her again with his strength and gentleness. But she relaxed against him, laying her head against his chest as they walked through the trees in silence.

"Ratonhnhaké:ton?" She asked softly, half muffled by the thick collar of his coat.

"Yes?"

"I love you," she murmured, punctuating the statement with a soft peck on his jaw.

The dark man merely smiled, his expression serene. He didn't need to say the same for her know that he felt the same way.


End file.
